"Why do we have to fight?" Italy asked quietly. "Why do you want to fight? Is fighting so much fun? Is it worth to see the pain, feel the pain, and see what happens because of it?"

"It's futile to ask a question like that to someone like me." Dark Italy said.

"Someone...like you?" Italy repeated. "You are me, and I am you, right? It'slike me answering that question, and I don't think fighting is a good way tosolve problems. Germany says that you have to accept who you are, and whatyou have done.

I know there were a lot of wars that I didn't like, but I like to look at the bright side-"

"There is no bright side of war." Dark Italy snapped. "War is dark. War is blood. War is not glorious like people make it out to be. War is madness, war is bloodshed, war is hell."

"War is very bad." Italy agreed. "But it brings everyone together as family-"

"It kills people."

Italy faltered and Dark Italy said under his breath, "War isn't necessary, but war happens. We came to accept that long ago because, well..." Dark Italy smiled a small smile. "We begin wars."

And then Dark Italy reached into his jacket, pulling out a gun. He raised his arm, pointing the weapon at Italy. The hammer clicked back and Dark Italy rested his finger on the trigger. "And we'll begin this one."— Chapter 38

"Every country has a history, and history can be cruel. Especially when it comes back to haunt you. Each nation harboredhatred... their hatred took on physical forms...and they are very, very, bloodthirsty."

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